"Okay." Peter sighs, looking down. "I know. I know it's not over and this is all probably gonna get worse, I'm not arguing--okay, maybe a little, but..."

He can't fix this.

He hates hearing Flynn sound like this--hates that anguished tone, hates that this town has done this to him--taking something he loved and used it for something so twisted and evil. Even if it was this town--he knew the feeling, knew that blurry line between 'was it really me or not' that taunted you, that might never ever go away.

"Damn it!" Peter kicks at the doorframe. How dare this place do something to someone so--so good?! "This isn't fair! Why him?" He's yelling at the wall now. "Not him!"